A Cracking Good Christmas
by stereolightning
Summary: Fred and George lighten the mood at Grimmauld Place with a box of homemade Christmas crackers. Meanwhile, Remus is starting to think that Tonks may be more than just an amusing friend... (Christmas during OotP.)


_**A/N** Written for the rt_morelove stocking filler exchange._

* * *

Remus had wondered when the lack of sleep was going to catch up with Tonks. Having been awake for nearly forty-eight hours, running errands for the Order and the Ministry, as well as helping Sirius string up fairy lights and deck the halls at Grimmauld Place, she had finally fallen dead asleep mid-conversation, never finishing her anecdote about vomiting telephone booths. She leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder, her long legs tucked under her, her lithe body denting the moth-eaten velvet cushions of the sofa.

This was unusual. Usually it was Remus who was tired and catnapping at odd hours.

Sirius had decorated the room exuberantly. A lush fir tree laden with babbling baubles muttered cheerful (though mostly unintelligible) salutations at passersby. A parade of enchanted nutcrackers marched back and forth across the mantel, firing papier-mâché bullets from wooden bayonets. A Yuletide fire whispered and crackled with the flickering of tall orange flames.

From his position on the sitting room sofa, Remus could just make out the figures of Harry and Ginny in the corridor, illuminated by the old-fashioned candle chandelier – the red-gold smudge of her hair, and the messy black halo of his. Harry was still subdued after witnessing the attack on Arthur Weasley, although he had finally come downstairs and joined everyone for Christmas dinner earlier this evening, and he seemed to take comfort from Ginny's company. They were tossing shimmering knots of tinsel for Crookshanks to chase. If you squinted, Remus thought, they could have been James and Lily, circa fifth year. Except that they weren't shouting at one another.

Tonks started to snore, and Remus stifled a chuckle into the sleeve of his jumper, not wanting to wake her, although she snored quite loudly enough to wake herself. Her nose shifted shape in sleep, and her hair drifted through different colours – candy-floss pink, then tangerine, and then a weak shade of blue that reminded him of the smoke left by magical explosions. He sometimes wondered if she collected paint swatches so that she could expand her repertoire of hair colours. She seemed able to do an awful lot of them.

He had decided since meeting her six months ago that she was very amusing. He liked calling her Nymphadora just to see her reaction - that unique, fantastic expression of outraged disgust that made her eyes flash and her cheeks redden. He could happily push _that _button all day long. Although he felt about fourteen years old whenever he did it.

But no, that was not really fair. She wasn't merely amusing. They had been on Order missions together, in dodgy corners of Knockturn Alley and far-flung woods with no back-up, and he had been impressed with her skill and savvy. And over the summer, she had worn a top so tiny that he had seen the small, firm muscles in her upper arms, the shallow dip below her deltoid, and realized she could probably take him in a fight. Perhaps she had been trained specifically to do that. To fight werewolves. And not just peaky, middle-aged ones who preferred reasoned argument over a cuppa.

Amused. Impressed. And then a third thing he couldn't quite verbalize yet.

Her fingers twitched, and her hand fell across his. Her nails sparkled with three different, lurid colours of charmed polish. He was touched that she trusted him enough to fall asleep right on top of him – how long had it been since he had met anybody who trusted him that much? Probably since Harry was born. Remus lingered in a fuzzy memory of baby Harry snoozing in his arms at Christmas fourteen years ago, and smiled.

A sound like a cannon blast sent Tonks bolt upright. She flung out her arm protectively in front of Remus. In her haste and shock, she knocked over an ugly lamp with a black iron base depicting two intertwined serpents. It fell to the floor with an echoing clang.

"What the bloody hell was that?" she asked.

He closed his hand gently around her wrist, which still hovered near his heart, and set down their joined hands in her lap.

"It's all right. I think they've started on the crackers," he said.

"The Christmas crackers?" she asked.

"Yes. Nothing to worry about. Fred and George made some themselves. Actually, you might want to go careful around those. The twins like a laugh, you know, and sometimes their jokes veer toward schadenfreude."

The cannon blast was followed by the screech of Wallburga Black's portrait and an exasperated howl from Mrs. Weasley.

Tonks squeezed Remus' hand and then let go as a parade of Weasley children, plus Harry and Hermione, stampeded into the room. Sirius brought up the rear, holding two tiered platters of biscuits and mince pies, and wearing a glossy new pair of sunglasses, which were doubly unnecessary given that they were in a dark house and it was half-past ten at night.

"Hullo, Professor. Mind if we open some more crackers in here? Only Mum'll go spare if we wake up the portraits again," said Ginny, who had tucked a sprig of holly behind her ear.

"By all means," said Remus.

"Are these more of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, by chance?" asked Tonks.

Fred winked at her. Remus was impressed again at Tonks' perceptiveness. She had a knack for remembering names and details like this.

The Weasleys began setting up their box of crackers and goblets of eggnog. Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, zoomed into the room, hooting cheerfully at everyone – happy to be among friends. Remus shared the sentiment, even if he didn't need to hoot about it.

"Thanks again for the books," said Harry, sitting down on the sofa next to Remus. "They'll come in useful."

"You're very welcome," said Remus. "Hermione told me you've been teaching Defence to some of the other students."

"I have. Well, I picked up a lot from you."

"That's wonderful to hear, Harry."

Another cannon blast sounded as Ron and Hermione opened a Wizard Wheeze cracker together. There was a shower of sparks and a puff of smoke, and then a few objects fell out. These included the usual paper crown and slip of parchment, but there were also a pair of toads. One toad was pink and wore a fussy-looking bow on its head. The other toad was green and wore a lime green bowler hat. As the toads hopped away, they emitted rude noises that made Ron snigger and Hermione primly cover her smiling mouth.

Ron put on the paper crown, muttered something about "Weasley is our king," and set up a chess game with Hermione by the fire.

Ginny and Harry opened a cracker together, producing a flock of turtledoves that promptly turned into turtles, crawled under the sofa, and bit anybody who tried to get them out. The next cracker yielded a deck of eager self-shuffling playing cards that showed off by playing solitaire with itself on the carpet.

Sirius sprawled in a tall purple armchair, draping his long limbs over the arms in a casually regal way. That was a bit of the old Sirius back again – the princely bearing, the long, dark hair in his eyes. Crookshanks leapt into his lap and Sirius patted his fluffy orange head. You could hear the purring from across the room.

"What's with the sunglasses?" Tonks called to Sirius.

"They're shade shades," he replied, peering at her over the top of them. "Supposed to reveal spirits that are neither ghosts nor people. No luck at the moment. But I look cool, don't I?"

"As cool as any old Gran with a huge kneazle in her lap, yeah," she said.

He stuck out his tongue at her and she blew a raspberry in reply.

"Shut up and have a biscuit. Cheeky bird," said Sirius, grinning and pointing his wand at one of the trays he had set on an end table.

Remus picked up a gingerbread wizard from the tray. "Did you make these, Padfoot?" he asked.

Sirius shook his head. "Molly did. She says baking's good for the nerves."

"I'll have to test that theory sometime," said Remus.

The gingerbread wizard in Remus' hand furrowed its piped icing eyebrows. "Are you going to eat me, or what?" it asked in a bored voice.

Remus and Harry both laughed in surprise.

"Shall I bite his head off for you, Remus?" asked Tonks.

This comment brought on a howl of disapproval from the other gingerbread wizards, some of whom chucked their candy buttons at Tonks in protest.

Bill and Fred opened another cracker, and a pair of blue budgerigars exploded out of it, whistling carols. Crookshanks twitched his bottle-brush tail and fixed his great yellow eyes on them. Pigwidgeon followed the budgies around the room, making soft cooing noises at them, wanting to make friends.

Harry and Ginny joined the chess game by the fire. Sirius opened a cracker, which turned out to contain a large number of what George called 'bludgering balloons', and which flew around attacking people for the next hour.

"These are good," said Sirius over his shoulder to George. "Really good. I would've loved to have these at school. I'd have filled the whole Slytherin common room with them."

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment, like someone feeling the first warm rays of summer sun on his face after years of winter. It did Remus good to see him like that. If Sirius could begin to recover from the nightmares he had endured over the last decade and a half, so could Remus. Perhaps one day they could both remember James and Lily with nothing but affection, untainted by the knowledge of what befell them later. Sometimes Remus very nearly managed it.

"Do a cracker with me?" asked Tonks, nudging Remus gently in the ribs.

"I'd love to," said Remus. "I'll probably need an Auror to fend off whatever comes out of it."

She Summoned a cracker and offered him one end of the crinkly red wrapper. He met her eyes. She had the same impossibly long lashes as Sirius. Remus and Tonks pulled the cracker, releasing a shower of sparks, a flutter of paper, and a small bag of unmarked sweets.

"Wonder if these are puking pastilles," said Tonks, untying the festive ribbon that fastened the little bag closed. "Hmm. Covered in chocolate, though, whatever they are." She fished one out of the bag and offered it to him.

"Constant vigilance," he said, arching an eyebrow.

"Since when do you turn down chocolate?" she asked.

"Since never," he said, taking the sweet from her and popping it into his mouth.

It was excellent chocolate. Buttery, with bitterness at the edges, and filled with something creamy and tart. Tonks ate one as well, and blinked indulgently with pleasure. Remus passed the bag to Fred, who handed it around the room. There was a minor kerfuffle in which a bludgering balloon chased after Pigwidgeon, and Harry came to the owl's defence by popping the offending balloon with a letter opener.

Ron shouted "Check!"

Hermione crossed her arms and said, "Do you expect that I'll give up this easily?

Well, I hate to disappoint you, Ronald Weasley.

Knight to F6! Decapitate his silly rook!

Oh, Ron, you saw it coming. Spare me the sour look."

She clapped her hand over her mouth and looked pointedly at Fred and George, who were now playing exploding snap on the carpet.

"Ah, they're rowing in hexameter," said Fred. "Much more tuneful this way, don't you agree, George?"

"I do, Fred. Couplet creams," George explained, winking at Remus. "Chiefly meant to annoy teachers and parents with rhyming ripostes, or to assist in the writing of novel Quidditch chants, but might have other applications as well."

"I guess this means we'll speak in verse," said Remus.

"Does this wear off in time, or just get worse?" asked Tonks.

"Half an hour, at the most," said Fred, who, like George, had apparently refrained from eating any. "If you like them, we've got another bag upstairs."

Hermione muttered another something full of rhyme and vitriol. Harry looked amused. Ginny turned on the wireless and tuned it until she found some inoffensive Christmas music.

Tonks tapped Remus on the shoulder to get his attention.

"We said no presents, and this really isn't one," she said.

"I would have done it anyway. It might be fun."

She took a card from the pocket of her jacket and thrust it into his hand. The front bore an illustration of a flowering plant with violet-coloured blossoms. He opened it. She had signed it with three xes and three ohs. She had also written a date in January, which he knew to be the date of the next full moon.

"Wolfsbane," she continued, pointing at the image of the flowers,

"Thought the real thing might make you sneeze.

Anyway, next month I'll brew it for you. Should ease

your mind, right?"

" - Nymphadora -"

"I've asked you not to call me that. Must I implore a

friend to call me by my chosen name?"

"I'm sorry, Tonks. It is my favourite game.

But there is no need. The price is too dear.

Some of the ingredients - "

" - Remus, hear

me when I say I want - no, need - to brew

this helpful remedy in hope that you

can have one peaceful night. Allow me this."

"Thanks."

She shrugged. "I'm a Hufflepuff. To help is bliss."

He smiled at her, unable to help himself. Partly because they had just spoken in sonnet together, but partly because she was just so... lovely. And she was an Auror, so she would of course have an NEWT in Potions. Clever witch.

She took off her jacket and shuffled her slender limbs, still sitting shoulder to shoulder with Remus. There was something about her collarbone. It was nice to look at.

"You're fit, aren't you," said the gingerbread wizard, giving Tonks a lascivious wink of its blackcurrant eye.

"Now I'm really going to bite his head off," said Tonks. "Oh. That's worn off, hasn't it? Ah, well. That was fun. Lucky nothing rhymes with Avada kedavra, though, or we could all be stone dead by now." She grinned.

Remus smiled more deeply and gazed at her, at the riot of colours and joi de vivre that was Nymphadora Tonks. She squeezed his hand, and he felt something like an electric shock shoot through his whole body. A current. His pulse purred in his ears, rapid and expectant. He thought he probably ought to let go of her hand, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

He was amused. He was impressed. He was... absolutely, irrevocably smitten, actually, he realized in a flash of simultaneous pleasure and panic.

"Yes," he said, recovering his voice. "Yes, very fortunate indeed."

Harry opened another cracker, which roared like a lion, and a shower of enchanted snow and confetti fell upon them all. Ice and paper landed in Tonks' bright pink hair, sparkling with light, and for a moment she looked like a Technicolor angel come to redeem them all.


End file.
